


Release the Kraken

by msxylda



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: But he totally didn't, JUST, Kraken!Bucky, M/M, Oblivious!Bucky, Oblivious!Steve, Steve thinks he took advantage of Bucky, Tentacle Sex, allusions to Wanda/Clint, but since they couldn't talk about it first it is dubcon, crackfic, don't follow their lead, even though they both want it, i make no apologies, mentions of Natasha/Bruce, mentions of Tony/Rhodey/Strange, you know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-17
Updated: 2016-11-17
Packaged: 2018-08-31 13:50:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8580973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msxylda/pseuds/msxylda
Summary: What if H.Y.D.R.A. tried to turn the recovered Bucky into an actual HYDRA (for reasons) and failed?Well, he'd probably have tentacle sex with Steve Rogers, for starters.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Livvy1800](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Livvy1800/gifts), [tracinginthesand](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tracinginthesand/gifts).



They’d been going for a hyrda, it was safe to assume, but like everything else with H.Y.D.R.A. the magic users they had were cut rate. Meaning the magic users the secret neo-Nazi organization had, not the mythical creature they were…

This was going to get confusing…

* * *

“I just don’t understand why Barnes is a kraken,” Tony muttered for the three thousandth time leaving Steve to rub the bridge of his nose because no one understood why Bucky had been turned into an honest to goodness straight out of mythology giant octopus thing.

“Why does Rumlow run around looking like a reject from Gwar,” Clint countered from his perch on the edge of the truck bed they’d filled with water and placed Bucky in. So he wouldn’t die. Because he was an octopus. “Why does Madame Hydra die her hair green?” He plucked a small piece of concrete ruble from the building they had destroyed during the fight and chucked it into the air. A purple tentacle darted from the water to catch it out of the air and toss it back to the archer. “Why does—“

“Are you playing catch with a kraken?” Tony asked, so incredulous his face dropped. Well, the mask of his suit dropped off. And that probably had something more to do with the battle than disbelief and was just hilarious comedic timing.

“Well I know if I was turned into something with eight arms, I’d want to see how sharp my reflexes were,” Clint stated before tossing three projectiles in the air. 

Bucky caught them all and without losing a beat, started to juggle them. With two purplish tentacles and one that was clearly metal, complete with the red star. Clint crowed and added a few more chunks to the mix before picking up his own pieces to juggle as well. 

As the two marksmen … well one marksman one marks-fish began to toss the pieces back and forth to each other Steve had only one thought.

Sweet merciful lord in heaven, how was this his life?

* * *

Tony fabricated a tank for Bucky, because of course he did. It was state of the art, had some weird lighting system, and wound throughout the compound so Bucky could be people at all times. There were openings from the tank into the “air breather’s living space” in Bucky’s room, in the common rooms, and in the range- for what Tony called obvious reasons- so that Bucky could still interact with the team. The one thing that truly puzzled Steve was why Tony had built an opening in Steve’s room.

Actually, no. What really confused him was the little lagoon he built in Steve’s room, complete with a castle more befitting a giant freaking fish tank. Why was Bucky given so much of Steve’s space? Yes, they’d grown up together. Yes, he’d risked his life to get Bucky back. Yes, he’d tried to drink himself to death after Bucky fell. Yes, he’d basically committed suicide by heroic act when that didn’t work. Yes, he’d been willing to die instead of fighting Bucky. Yes, he’d dropped everything to track Bucky down. Yes, he’d torn apart the team and become a fugitive for Bucky. 

Yes, he was in love with Bucky…

Okay, so it was obvious why the opening to _his_ tank would’ve been in Bucky’s room if their situations had been reversed, but they were not. And while Bucky was still Steve’s best friend, he wasn’t so sure he was Bucky’s.

And sure, it stung that Bucky seemed to prefer spending time with Clint, but they were both sharp shooters who had a history of mind control. That was… that was a thing they had in common and their similar humor seemed to be helping Bucky heal. That was good.

And yes, it stung when Bucky went to Sam when he needed to have a good cry, but Sam was good with people. He was good with comforting people. He was good with comforting soldiers coming home from war with trauma. It was his thing. That was good.

And okay, it burned when he patched things up with Tony after the two got drunk together… but Steve couldn’t get drunk. And if the two of them continued to get drunk and talk about whatever it was two drunk and single men talked about in this era- probably women- then that was fine. That was good.

Steve still couldn’t get drunk. Or say the right soothing words. Or shoot a moving target at two hundred yards in high winds.

He couldn’t cook like Wanda did with Bucky. He couldn’t swear in Russian like Natasha did with Bucky. He wouldn’t look at society as if he was outside it like Vision did with Bucky. He refused to wrestle in the mud like Thor did with Bucky.

More for the sake of his sanity and to avoid inconvenient erections than for any real fear of being hurt, of course. 

But Steve still had Colonel Rhodes, who was wary of Bucky. Even if Steve was beginning to suspect that was a jealous thing over Tony than actual worry over the brain washed assassin bit of Bucky’s history…

Because of all that drinking and talking about women. Assuming they were talking about women and not men. Because Steve had caught Bucky watching the male members of the team more intently than the female members. And not because he thought they were more dangerous. He clearly understood that The Widow and The Witch were the most lethal. No, it was in an appreciative way.

What if they were… 

No, he wasn’t going to think about Tony and Bucky together. He wasn’t. He was not.

He was… going to go take another cold shower, all while being resentful that he couldn’t even have privacy in his own room to take care of his pesky problem.

* * *

It took a week for Steve to understand just how much of a problem that opening in his bedroom would be. It had been ten days since Bucky had been transformed. Thor had been to Asgard and back looking for a cure. Tony had tracked down various doctors with supernatural abilities that fought crimes (of which there were many) to come and check Bucky out. Samples were taken. Tests were run. 

They found nothing.

Clint had spent all day convincing Tony to reach out to “that strange guy” despite Tony’s adamant and vehement protests. By the time Steve had decided to call it tonight, Tony was wavering to the point that Rhodey had thrown a cup across the room and stormed out. 

Steve wasn’t so sure he wanted someone involved that upset a team member so badly… but this was for Bucky. He would do anything to get his friend back, up to and including death. He could endure a strange guy. He could endure getting Bucky back only to lose him to Tony. He could endure a tentacle wrapping around his ankle.

Why was there a tentacle wrapping around his ankle?

It wasn’t cold or wet, like he would’ve assumed, but Steve still jumped. Or maybe it was more accurate to say he jumped because it was actually warm and silky smooth, with little suction cups that pulled at his flesh in a way that was…

It was…

Fuck him, it was erotic. He tried to brush the tentacle off, because he should not be getting hard from his friend’s tentacles. His friend should not have tentacles. He should not be exploiting Bucky’s misfortu… misfortu….

Tuh-uu-oooh. 

The tentacle gave a particularly vicious pull against the flesh just above his ankle and Steve’s hips lurched of the bed. He panted and shivered as they suckled his leg and foot, but stopped his efforts to dislodge his friend’s seeking limbs. And seeking they were, taking his passivity for consent and working their way up his body. One bold tentacle- the metal one, he noted- going so far as to work its way under his sleep pants and up his bare flesh.

This was wrong, he thought as he pulsed in his pants, this was so very wrong. And how had Bucky picked up on his fascination with the metal arm? Everyone else assumed it was abhorrence and guilt that had Steve avoiding looking at it too long. 

Or maybe it was just—

The metal limb made it to his thigh, it’s fine tip tracing the muscles and tickling the hair and Steve knew that he had to stop this. Knew if things progressed any further he would be in real trouble. And he would stop it. He would. He was Captain America. He was just and strong and righteous. So he really was going to stop that questing digit before it snuck its way up to his scrotum and circled his balls and Steve came with the power of a hurricane. His back bowed, his vision whited out, he shouted himself hoarse, and he was nearly positive lightning struck him.

Because he didn’t stop Bucky.

Because he was the worst kind of scum.

* * *

He hid in Wanda’s room. She didn’t have an opening in her room, had made it very clear that while she liked Bucky normally, sea time fun Bucky was something straight from her childhood nightmares and she would be avoiding him. 

And Bucky respected that, unlike he respected Steve’s agency. 

Not that Steve could complain; he’d basically just taken advantage of Bucky’s altered state to get his rocks off. And while he felt like the world’s biggest asshole for it, he still watched the hickies that Bucky had sucked into his flesh until they’d fully healed.

It didn’t take much time, and Steve hated himself for hating that.

The only hickies Bucky would ever give him, and they were gone within an—

“What the hell did you do?” Clint demanded as he threw open the door. Wanda grumbled about privacy and how she could kill people with her minds, but everyone knew it was all talk. At least when it came to Clint.

She had a real soft spot for the older archer.

That was probably something Steve should—

Clint charged the bed and started poking Steve in the chest. “I’ve spent the last hour consoling a moping Kracken, Cap, and I didn’t think it was possible for sea monsters that could swallow ships whole to mope. So again, I’ll ask what did you do?”

Oh god, this was it. This was the punishment for manipulating his best friend. Manipulating.His.Best.Friend. Who was already in a rough spot. Of being turned into a sea monster. He was the worst. The worst. And now he was going to be killed by his own teammates. Clint would shot him, Nat would stab him. Tony would—

He didn’t want to think about what Tony would do to defend his probably boyfriend’s honor.

Well, he had it coming. And at least this way he’d never have to see the disappointment on his friend’s face. It was probably for the—

“Bucky got him off and he feels bad because he doesn’t know Bucky is in love with him.” Wanda interrupted from the chair where she was casually painting her toenails. “And Bucky feels bad because he got Steve off and he doesn’t realize Steve is in love with him right back. Basically, they're both oblivious idiots.” She finished painting, returned the brush to the bottle and flexed her toes giving them a calculating look.

As if she hadn’t just broken Steve’s brain.

Clint turned and looked at the younger woman with a disapproving dad face. The one Steve normally used, damn it. “Wanda, sweetheart, we agreed that we wouldn’t poke around in people’s heads anymore.”

“I didn’t,” she said as she reached for a clear bottle of polish. “But if people are going to pine that hard while around me, I’m going to pick up on it. Besides, the orgasms these two experienced were like an air raid siren going off. And I know about air raid sirens. One went off right before—“

“Wanda if you play the ‘my parents were killed’ card right now, I will shake out my pockets over your toes.”

The look of horror that crossed the Witch’s face was almost comical. Would’ve been comical if Steve understood anything. Which he didn’t. Because just… what?

“Bucky loves me?” he asked weakly, but Wanda was too wrapped up in her outrage to notice.

“But my polish!” she screamed.

“Yeah, that was the threat, sweat heart.”

“Just for that, I’m telling Tony that he really offended both Rhodey and Strange by not acknowledging the threesome they had in Malibu while Rhodey was recouperating. That it was more than just a ritualistic healing for all of them.”

“You promised, Wanda!”

“You only care because of the betting pool!”

…wait… Bucky’s orgasm?

He really hoped Tony had fabricated a filtration system.

* * *

In the end, Steve used puppy dog eyes on Wanda to get her to call Strange herself and repeat everything she’d just told him. Well, the bits about Tony, Rhodey and him. Not the Steve-Bucky part. Clint pouted until Steve agreed to let him get an official twitter for the team that he could manage. This caused Natasha to pout until he tracked down Bruce in a small village in Tibet, of all places, and had Wanda give the two of them her special brand of counseling.

While she was fixing her nail polish, of course.

Bucky was returned to his normal form with little fuss, but not before they got to explore just how strong and flexible his Kraken form was.

Finding Bruce took longer than expected and Steve doesn’t have to explain himself to anyone. What two consenting adults do in the privacy of their own bedroom-slash-fishtank is their own business thank you very much.

And if Steve had to put up with the other Stephen and his own special brand of drama several nights a week as he explored his own blossoming relationship with Tony and Rhodey? Well, looking down and the metal arm wrapped around his stomach in the pale morning light, Steve figured it was well worth it.


End file.
